


SOS

by WedgeTailed



Category: Chicago Med, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Drugs, Hurt, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Relationships to Be Added - Freeform, Violence, injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WedgeTailed/pseuds/WedgeTailed
Summary: Adam's undercover in an international drug scandal goes south, but he isn't made as police or at least he hopes he hasn't been. They had decided that they didn't need the nosey, young drug dealer in their business, so they took him to their drug ring, set up in the Pacific, to safely dispose of him. It's a race against the clock as the Chicago P.D team up with the Australian Police and some unsuspecting friends fishing off off the coast of Northern Australia.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno, I just got inspired by the first lines of SOS by Avicii, and this happened. Chapters will hopefully be posted each week, how ever I'm about to get real busy with a new job and school and everything else I do. So I hope you enjoy! More tags will be added later.

It was dark when he opened his eyes, or at least he thinks he did. The air was warm and moist, the space smelling like damp mould, and something else. There was a metallic taste in his mouth, and he tried to move his hands, finding them trapped behind his back. He groaned lowly as pain in his jaw and stomach suddenly flared up. A thought struck him hard and he tensed up. The undercover operation.

The other scent was the musk of drugs. What kind, his fuzzy head couldn’t work out. “Ah shit,” he muttered, wincing as his head spun. He stretched his legs out, not getting far before they pressed against a wall or something like that. He then tried to trace the wall in different directions, sighed when he found his ankles were bound together. He traced them to his right, finding a corner, then going back the other way and finding another corner. 

He looked up, or what he thought was up. There a high chance that he was in a wooden crate, the wet material softer than metal but still strong. He got his legs underneath him and struggled to stand. Getting his footing he momentarily forgot his theory until his head connected rather forcefully with a roof. He dropped back down, groaning as his head pulsed, pain flaring in his body again. A small red flashing suddenly caught his eye, coming from his waist band. The wire. 

A built in GPS helped keep track of undercover agents when they are lost. He flicked his shoulder backwards, his jacket uncovering to small device that was previously hidden in his waist band. If the red light was flashing it meant they were tracking him. He sighed in relief, his head rolling back to rest against the wall. A sudden bump gently threw his body backwards, harder into the wall. His brain slowly came into focus. 

He was on a boat, the steady rocking confirmed that, the bump must have been them docking somewhere. There was nothing else to feel other than the rocking. The he could hear machinery and gradually more noises. Water, people talking then finally chains right above him. The crate was lifted up making his stomach lurch. It was swung around roughly before being dropped heavily onto a hard surface. 

He groaned lowly as he struggled to sit up, pain blinding him in his shoulders and back now, he’d also hit his damn head again. A large squeaking crack could be heard as one of the walls were pried open and he realised he was now lying down instead of sitting, back pressed against the floor now. His head rolled all the way back, squinting ibn the bright sun that was definitely not Chicago’s sun. He let out another groan, grimacing at the sun, feeling a wetness trickle down his forehead. 

“Mr Scott Davies, I presume?” A voice asked, distinctly Australian accented. “Yeah, guessing you’re Robert Sanchez,” he said, eyes slowly adjusting to see the silhouette of multiple men staring in at him. “Please, Bobbie is just fine.” Scott could almost see the smirk on his face. “Get him out of there,” Bobbie said sharply. He grunted as he was roughly dragged out, pain burning his sides now and he cried out. 

“Ooo, so sorry about that mate. My boys did a number on you, didn’t they? Yeah,” he trailed off, answering his own question. Scott smirked slightly as Bobbie walked around him. He didn’t think he could stand on his own feet, knowing that if he made the wrong move, he would be dropped by the thugs. But he couldn’t help himself. “Love the way you bring in your guests, wonder if the whole place is as great as the transportation,” he said, smirk still plastered on his face. 

Bobbie had stopped in front of him and took a firm step forward. Scott braced himself for a hit to the gut, almost disappointed when he said calmly, “Yeah? It’s first class.” Apparently, Australian’s are harder to anger. There was a pause and he could feel himself being studied. Bobbie was staring at his face, trying to decode his stance, trying to uncover something. 

A slow smirk crawled its way onto Bobbie’s face, “Come boys, let’s take our guest to his rooms.” Scott’s chest clenched, hoping this guy had not figured out that he wasn’t actually Scott Davies, an amateur drug dealer in Chicago, but an officer, Officer Adam Ruzek of the 21st District, Chicago Police Department.


	2. Chapter 2

Voight stared at the red blinking dot on the tracking program. There was a whole lot of movement coming from the team outside as they hurried to do more research. The fear that had gripped them all as they heard the ruckus on the other ends of the comm was gripping. They’d all been tense as they heard him talking one minute, moving when all they could hear was alarmed, muffled grunts.

Jay had been first to kick down the door, Hailey right behind him. Gunshots broke out and they came under heavy fire. They watched as Adam was half dragged, half lifted out a back entrance. Kev and Kim tried to intercept but were met with more than one car to chase. Their initial instinct was to chase after a van, that being the most likely for a victim to be taken in. 

They finally had run down the van and found only product and two passengers; the other cars gone to the wind. “Sarge,” he was pulled out of his thoughts by Jay bursting in, “We’ve located two of the cars that were at the scene.” “Let’s hit it,” Voight said, already grabbing his jacket and getting up. The sirens were turned on as they raced down the streets of Chicago. 

Jay was gripping the wheel tightly, jaw set. Hailey reached over and placed a hand on his arm. He glanced at her, loosening his grip a little and leaning back into his seat. “We’ll find him,” she said. He stayed staring at the road then nodded. The scene was guarded when they got there. A security guard came up to them. 

“Where are the cars?” Voight asked as he jumped out of the car. “Right behind me. I saw them fly off in two other cars. I didn’t look around though so they might still be here,” the guard said. Voight drew his gun, Antonio on his heels, Jay following behind, as Hailey stopped to get details from the guard. Kim and Kevin driving around the side for a different entrance. 

Antonio took the lead from Voight, closing in on the first car. He raised the gun towards the window, peering in for someone sort of evidence. “Clear,” he said loudly, Jay echoing him as he checked out the other vehicle. “Body!” Kim yelled. The three near the cars stood up straight, looking over to her. All the blood had drained from her face and she was trying not to look in between two containers.

Kevin appeared, stumbling then leaning on the corner facing away from them and spilling his guts on the gravel. Voight took lead, Jay behind him this time. He got closer, tapping Kim on the shoulder and she nodded rapidly. They rounded the corner, guts clenching at the sight before them. Blood splattered all across the small piece of pavement around what looked to be an old power line. 

From the splattered blood, drag marks towards the poles, a pool of blood beneath it. A man was strung up, using what used to be the wire on the lines. His eyes were wide open but dead. His front was slashed open, entrails hanging out. Voight held the back of his gun carrying hand to his mouth. Jay and Antonio turned on their heels, guts clenching. 

Whoever had done this was gone, but it looked like he’d been still struggling as they strung him up. “Call it in,” Voight said, hearing Antonio doing as he said. He turned to his team who were all looking shocked at the scene and rattled, Hailey now with them. “Set up a crime scene, once investigators get here, Dawson, Halstead and Upton, go back to the district,” he looked at Kim and Kevin, “Burgess and Atwater you stay here.” 

The team nodded and jumped into action, cording of a wide perimeter with yellow tape and a smaller area around the body with red tape. Jay and Hailey wordlessly slid into their truck again. They both sat there, looking out the front window for a moment. “He’s got a chance,” Jay said softly. “I thought it was-” Hailey cut herself off. 

“Yeah… me too,” Jay said. He put it into drive, rolling forward slowly and away from the scene. Antonio glanced at Voight as he drove. “It wasn’t him,” Voight said before Antonio could express his own thoughts. “Yeah, but this is bad. We now know what these guys are capable of,” Antonio added. Voight nodded, “Clear everything this is top priority.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I changed the plot a little because I was thinking, 'why would they keep him around if they had absolutely no use for him?' So, I hope you all are still enjoying this!

Adam looked slowly around the room they’d stuffed him into, ribs dully throbbing. It was a grey white, with a single bed and a small bathroom. It resembled an old hospital room. The whole place had that old hospital look to it but most importantly the abandoned feel. His hands were still bound by a thin mooring rope, but his ankles were free. 

He looked out of the window and saw down to a nice, clean looking beach. It was divided from the rustic looking port by a rocky headland. He’d seen a documentary once about the old World War I bunkers littering islands around Australia once. Even though it had been a while ago, and he wasn’t really paying attention, opting to use the TV as white noise to help him sleep, he found himself recognising the place a little. 

The plants to looked similar to those in the documentary. A thought suddenly struck him. They hadn’t killed him so what were they keeping him around for? He was startled out of his thoughts by the grating off metal on concert, clenching his jaw as the sound assaulted his ears. He glared towards the thugs he’d come to know as Travis and Hunter. 

They advanced towards him; stone faced. They grabbed his shoulders and pushed him forward with just enough force for him to stumble. “Don’t try anything tough guy.” Adam knew he should try something, but curiosity was getting the best of him. However, in the back of his mind he knew that curiosity is what killed the cat. 

He complied, walking silently and obediently, not really wanting to be slammed into the ground. He’d been a little too disorientated when he got there. All he really remembers was that he was dragged into his cell. He’d been in too much pain, as they stretched what was most likely a broken rib, to keep his eyes open long enough. 

He looked around now, taking in the wide halls floored with tile. The various branching corridors that lead to offices and swinging doors. This was definitely an old hospital. It was very run down though, white paint peeling and yellowing, cracked tiles water damage and mould. He was just glad his room didn’t look as bad as this place. 

The main corridor finally opened up into what looked like a large ED. Desks had been set up around the place. On each desk was a station for the preparation of the product, it looked like ice. It wasn’t the biggest operation he’d seen but he knew that there must be more rooms like this set up. The small trauma bays were acting as storage and he wasn’t surprised to see a glimpse of white packages stacked in some, through the openings of the curtains. 

This room also didn’t look as run down as the hallways. Standing in the middle was Bobbie, over seeing the product’s development. Travis and Hunter pushed Adam right up to him. “Quite an operation,” Adam said. “It is, isn’t it?” Bobbie asked rhetorically. Adam shifted a little, unable to stop his curiosity. “Why do you still need me?” he asked. 

Bobbie spun quickly on his heel, staring Adam down with a look fitted to a psychopath. “You, my friend, are a sneaky little bugger. However, you did bring up the fact that the warehouse we were operating in was unguarded and open for discovery. I thought I’d keep you around for a little longer since you got us to move. Ya know, out of curtesy and cause the boss wants to meet the asshole that caused us to move,” Bobbie smirked, now right in front of Adam’s, eyeing him down, studying his reactions. 

Bobbie grabbed his head and pulled him closer, his mouth right against his heel. “We also both know that you are not who you say, Scott Davies. I want to figure out who the man behind the mask is before I kill you,” he whispered harshly. Adam’s eyes widen slightly before he tamed his expression when Bobbie pulled away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about man,” Adam said, thankful his voice did not waver. Bobbie levelled him with a challenging smirk, “We’ll see about that, friend.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it's kinda late in Australia but I gotta make sure my friends don't post anything that stupid of me for my birthday tomorrow XD. This chapter is a little shonky but I needed a filler... hope you enjoy!!

Jay stretched his arms, growling slightly as his muscles loosened. Hailey was doing the same beside him. Voight and Antonio were talking quietly to each other. Jay took careful steps forward. 20 fucking hours on a plane had him feeling slightly nostalgic but also severely jetlagged. The turbulence had kept him up half the time and the movies he watched were also partly to blame but the worst thing was the image that haunted him. 

That man, Greg Tully had been the owner of the little dock yard. He felt sorry that he was dead, he really did but he was so relived to not find Adam’s body. However, every time he closed his eyes, finally drifted off, the image of Adam strung up and murdered like that would jump at him, startling him awake. The three other officers were in similar mind sets.

A lead had come just as suddenly as Adam was taken. Word from an informant had got to them that Todd Peterson, the drug rings leader had upped his whole operation and disappeared. This informant was able to talk to his brother who was in the operation and got the information that they were going to islands off the top of Australia. 

Two uniformed people caught his eye. He looked up and saw vest with ‘Police’ written across them. Voight met them head on. “Chicago P.D Intelligence?” the first guy asked. Voight gave a slight nod. “Come with us,” he said, turning on his heels. They gathered their minimal bags and followed. Jay couldn’t help but think of Kev and Kim. 

Adam’s best friends had been put off the case. They were hysterical of course but Voight thought it was better this way and Jay agreed. Jay was so thankful that Voight didn’t see through Jay’s shield. Jay was raging on the inside, bent on killing these bastards himself but he knew Adam could handle himself. He’d seen the kid fight multiple times, hell he’d fallen off a two-story building and still had enough strength to deliver a punch to the offender afterwards. 

They walked into a small room located away from the more public areas. “What have you got for us?” Antonio asked, getting straight to the point. The Australians didn’t waste much time. The first guy, spoke, “We’ve been monitoring activity on abandoned islands off of the north coast. There’s been a large amount of activity up there lately. 

We think that’s the place we’re both looking for.” Jay nodded thoughtfully. “Have you investigated further?” Hailey asked. The second guy spoke up, “No, we’ve only just found this lead and our Sea Patrol haven’t been able to get out there.” Voight looked around the room. “Are there any clearances we need? Because we need to get out there real soon,” Voight said, producing the photo of the body they’d found and showing it to the two police. 

They both cringed. “Jesus Christ,” the second guy muttered. Hailey looked at Jay and he gave her a nod. He wasn’t fine but she worried. “I agree with you there. We don’t have any boats though,” the first guy said. “We could acquire a civilian boat. Maybe they’ve seen something too,” the second guy spoke up. Voight nodded, “let’s do that.” 

“Don’t you guys need any rest? You all look dead tired,” the first said. Voight glanced around the room, they all looked jet lagged but that didn’t matter at the moment. He turned back to them, “We’re missing a good officer and friend. We can rest later.” The two police nodded, heading to lead them out of the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmph, this is late. Ah well, shit happens and I'm sorry... Anyway enjoy!! :)

“Fucking hell! Noah!” Eva yelled, jumping away as he swung the squid around on his hook. Brooke fell over backwards in her scramble to get away from her older brother. The squid was inking everywhere. “Get it out of the boat!” Brooke screamed, sitting in the stern, Eva standing over her. “Relax, relax,” Noah chuckled, reaching over to unhook it, “it’s only a bit of ink.” “You won’t be saying that when your hands are stained black for a week,” Eva said, smiling. 

She’d got him there as his face paled. He hated getting dirty. Eva pulled on some gloves as he redrew his hands. He held the rod still as she carefully unhooked it then threw it back into the water. “We also don’t have proper showers,” Brooke said, arms folded and a little grumpy. “Get over it,” Noah said, smile back on his face. “You’ve made a mess,” Eva dead panned, peeled the gloves off and looking around the floor of the large tinny. 

“Yeah. We can clean it out,” Noah said. “You mean you can!” Brooke said. “No, we,” he retorted, opting to cast his line again. Eva’s rod started jerking and she quickly grabbed it. She reeled it in a bit, pulling, let it go slack, pulled again while reeling. “Geez, it’s a big one,” she grunted. Noah stood behind her, reaching around her to help pull. 

“Can we go back now?” Brooke complained. The two reeling in the fish didn’t acknowledge her. They pulled harder, backs bending with the strain. Suddenly, as if in a cartoon, a large object was pulled through the surface, smacking right into Eva who fell backwards onto Noah, sending them both down. They were dazed for a second, not exactly sure what had happened until Brooke shouted, “is that someone’s ashes!” 

Spooked, the two jumped up immediately to look over the package that had been dumped into their boat. It was grey and waterlogged. “Ah, I don’t think so,” Noah said. Eva reached forward and grabbed the package. “No… it’s too white,” she said hesitantly. She rolled it over in her hands for a second. “Hey Brooke, what’s the GPS coordinates?” Brooke looked at the GPS, “098 265, no. 873, why?” Noah had caught on by that point. 

“Write that down. We need to go to the police,” he said. “Why! What is it?” Brooke said, anger boiling as they avoided her questions. “It’s drugs” Eva said plainly. Brooke froze, the plainness unnerving her a little. “It’s not ashes?” she asked herself. “No,” Noah growled. Eva stashed the package under the bench and sat at the stern on the tinny. 

Noah pushed his sister aside and took up the motor and rudder. Noah revved the motor as far as it would go without cutting out. They hightailed it back to the jetty, quickly getting the tinny onto the trailer. Noah jumped in the front seat of Eva’s Holden. She’d been driving with the trailer but was really not allowed. He wasn’t either but it was better than her because she was younger. 

Brooke was sitting in the back, eyeing the package. They finally got to the closed town and drove right to the police. Brooke refused to touch it so Noah ended up taking it in. The got up to the front desk and dinging the bell. A lady came up to them. “Hi, can I help you love?” “Ah- we found this,” Eva said and Noah heaved the package onto the desk. 

The lady grew wide eyed looking at it, then the three, then back to it again. After giving her the coordinates of where they found it, they found themselves in a back room. They watched as some police rushed around and saw three who wore a different uniform. They could hear their accents knowing they were not Australian. 

Soon one of the youngest looking man walked over to them. He crouched down in front of them. “So, you are the ones who found that drug package?” Eva nodded, “Yeah, we were fishing in the mangroves when I pulled it up.” The man nodded. He then reached a hand out and shook their hands. “I’m Detective Jay Halstead from Chicago,” he smiled a little, “I hear you are firefighters? You look too young.” 

“Yeah, we’re volunteers. Both of us started at 16 and my sister is still a junior,” Noah spoke up. “That’s pretty cool man,” Jay said, “What are you three doing in Queensland?” “Holidaying and fishing,” Brooke spoke up. “You have a boat?” Jay asked, suddenly very alert. Noah and Eva looked over Brooke at each other, both wondering if they’d been found out. “Yeah,” Eva said reluctantly, “a tinny.”


End file.
